Recorded in chief songwriter Martin Courtney's apartment last Spring, "Motorbikes" features just one set of vocals: those of birds singing outside. Their pipes line the instrumental opening track of Real Estate's Reality EP, a quick end-of-year release that's assumed physical form just one month after the New Jersey foursome released their first (and equally loose) full-length. Weird then that a band known for taking its sweet time on tape seems to have rushed to share even more. But according to Courtney, the Reality EP is more a step toward starting 2010 fresh-- delivering songs either written or recorded too late to be included on their LP.
Not surprisingly, not a lot separates the two releases sonically. If anything, Courtney's songwriting has relaxed even further. "Motorbikes" is anchored by Alex Bleeker's strolling bass line, while Matt Mondanile and Courtney's guitars are still plenty submerged. The racket from the titular motorcycles buzzsawing through the airspace outside the apartment that day never harshes the mellow. It's a moment that successfully bottles up the porch-swinging splendor of Real Estate's tie-dyed indie rock. But, notably, "Motorbikes" is the only track here on which all the band's members play together. With the added exception of "Saturday Morning" and Etienne Duguay's drumwork on highlight/closer "Dumb Luck", the rest of the Reality EP is the sound of Courtney working alone-- writing, recording, playing every instrument himself, harmonizing, jaaaaamming.
Real Estate songs are often mood pieces, and this set sounds much more the product of a melancholy young man ruminating on his own than any group trip to the beach. On "Basement", Courtney stretches his guitars over shakers, letting them yawn and sigh to sweet effect. It's become a live staple and for good reason: Despite the lyrical tug inwards, its structure and melody are wide open. The same can't be said for "Drum", a circular, minor-key ramble that's languid enough to sound positively clenched at times. The Mondanile-penned "Saturday Morning" is distinctly his own: a phaser pedal-ed paean to simple pleasures that in a way is spiritual kin to Girls' Christopher Owens' lyrical prism. Just without words. And as is the case in his Ducktails work, Mondanile's guitar licks here are at once misty and syrupy, a curtain of repeating textures that often sound like harp more than a Fender. Though it sounds and feels very much like the brainlight of another guy at the wheel, it fits. Real Estate may be Courtney's vehicle, but his bandmates speak a similar language.
